Massacre
by YouBastardsKilledKenny
Summary: Sometimes I don't know if I should live or die. It's distracting, really. My mother tries to kill me on a regular baises. Maybe Hell is where I should stay, perhaps I shouldn't come back anymore. It's not like anyone cares. Damien x Kenny, Stan x Kenny
1. Prologue

**A/N**

**Amy**: Hello, this is my first fanfiction, so please be nice. The main pairings are **Damien x Kenny** and **Stan x Kenny**. Of course, there are other slash pairings and regular pairings too, but I'm going to keep it a secret for now. There is a time skip in this story, so I provided you with an age list.

Kenny – 14

Kevin (Kenny's older brother) - 17

Katie (Kenny's younger sister) – 12 (I'm not sure if it is correct or not, but..)

Damien – 15

Stan – 15

Shelly - 17

Kyle – 14

Ike - 7

Cartman – 15

Satan – who the hell knows?

And parents…no one cares about the parents, so I'm not going to mention their names. I'm going to mention the girls' ages later in the chapter. Well, enjoy the story.

* * *

A whisper of wind swirled lazily outside, lifting a small handful of dead leaves and snow powders and flinging them against the cracked window of Kenny's room. The boy's usual bright cerulean eyes were dull with despair, his orange parka stained in crimson, and his pale face caked with his own blood.

He sat in the corner of the room where the blue paint easily peeled off, staring at the shadow that loomed over him with an emotionless expression. "What do you want?" He spat.

"Now, now Kenneth, is that any way to treat your mother?" Carol McCormick said in a sickening sweet tone, keeping a tight grip on the kitchen knife that had blood, Kenny's blood, dripping down its sharp tip.

"I'm not related to you as far as I know." The boy countered.

"What do you mean, honey?"

Kenny made eye contact with the woman. "You treat me like shit; I don't look like anyone from this family, and it doesn't say my name on the family records." He replied in monotone, dipping his index finger in the red puddle that formed by his body. "Admit it. I am adopted."

"Why Kenneth, I have no idea what you are talking about?" The red haired woman took a step forward. "Why are you talking about this nonsense? I am your mother, aren't I? You have to trust mommy, no?"

The blonde looked away, not making any attempts to get up and run. "You're not. Stop faking, Mrs. McCormick. I am not related to you, and I don't want to be."

The woman's expression immediately changed from smug to anger. "How dare you talk back to me Kenneth?! You really should respect your family members!"

"This is not my family." He pointed out.

"That's it! That's the last straw!" She marched up to the boy and grabbed his collar. "I have worked so hard for the money, just to pay the rent and food, and you don't appreciate it?! At least you will know for sure every night that you could sleep under a roof and have warm food waiting for you!"

"Maybe I don't want these things." He slapped the woman's hand away.

"What?!"

Kenny smudged away some blood from his cheek. "Maybe I like living when I am not sure where to sleep at night, or what to eat. If I remembered correctly, you once put rat poisoning in my meal, except for Katie accidentally ate it, thinking it was her plate." He looked away, his voice now soft. "And now look what happened to her."

"So you are blaming me for her loss?!" In a split second, the knife was a few centimeters away from the Kenny's nose.

"Yes, precisely." He replied calmly. "You may have given us food, but we are scared to eat it. You may have given us shelter, but one of us would always keep watch in fear of you trying to kill us. There was never a night when we slept peacefully, nor a night when we could happily accept your food. We had to take turns trying the food, just like gunny pigs in laboratory to see if it was poisoned or not!"

"It was you! It was you all along isn't it?! You brainwashed my son and daughter to think I am a monster! You demon! I knew something wasn't right about you when I first saw you, but to think that my own son tried to-"

"I am not your son." Kenny objected.

"Fine, if you deny it so much, if you don't appreciate what I am doing for you, then you can just go to Hell!"

"Maybe I will."

A kick, several stabs, and crimson liquid splashed on the crayon-blue walls, the blonde's world tilts as he realizes that he had fallen. Placing the knife in his hand to make it look like suicide, Mrs. McCormick stormed out of the room, shouted out cuss words.

* * *

A few hours later, the oldest of the siblings returned from work. "Kenny?" He called out. "I talked to the boss of the restaurant, and he said if you want, you could work there as a waiter too."

Kevin paused, expecting his little brother to burst out of his room screaming in joy, but the house was silent. "Kenny?"

He made his way across the house and up the stairs. The brunette knocked on the door, waiting for a response. "Ken? You there? Well, I'm going in if you don't answer." The high school student pushed open the door, seeing the bloody sight in front of him.

There was his little brother, curled up in the corner lying in the pool of blood with a kitchen knife in his left hand.

"Oh god." He immediately rushed over and gently lifted up the blonde from the dirty floor. "Kenny? You alright?" He cradled the body. _God damn it. Does he look alright to you? _His mind retorted.

"Why do you always let mom do these things to you?" He whispered. "Why can't you just run away from her?"

"I…can't run…forever, can I?" Kenny rasped, his azure eyes half opened, staring at nothing. "I really…want to…die, K-Kevin. Kill me…please. I c-can't stand…to be h-here any longer. Tell d-dad…that I-"

"Dad's…gone, remember?" The older brother said gently. "Shh…don't waste your breath. Wait here for a while; I'll get some bandages for you."

"But…I j-just saw dad in my r-room! H-he was smiling at m-me!"

"No Kenny. You're hallucinating from blood loss. With mom in the house, I can't afford to call 911. I'm afraid that you have to deal with this pain right now."

"A-Alright."

Kenny's large eyes stared at the departing figure of his unrelated older brother figure, and his gaze landed on the knife. The blade shined as he picked it up by the handle and smiled. "I guess this is goodbye."

* * *

The light of the hospital room flickered in an annoying manner, and then went back to normal in a few seconds. In a desperate situation like this when one grain of sand could tip the scale of life or death, ironically, all Kevin could think about was the flickering light.

Perhaps it was better that way. Maybe the light could take his mind off his severely wounded little brother, at least for a little while.

"God Kenny, what were you thinking? Now I am forced to take you to the hospital. What would mom do if she finds out?"

The brunette sighed and put his hands together and closed his eyes.

_Dear Lord,_

_I know that I haven't worshipped you in a long while, but please hear what I am about to say. My little brother is dying over here, and as you know, he has done nothing wrong. He is just an 8__th__ grade kid who is suffering from child abuse. _

_We may not be bound by blood, but he is still my brother, and I care a lot about him._

_I know that all things and people die after a while, but he is only fourteen; too young to be taken away. If he dies, I don't know what I am going to do, so please, _please_ try to save him._

_Yours Truly,_

_Kevin McCormick_

The oldest McCormick sibling stopped praying and looked at the peaceful figure of his brother lying on the white sheets of hospital bed. Occasionally, the blonde who murmur something in his sleep; Kevin would lean in, trying to figure out what he said.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. _The quiet sounds that the heart monitor made was luring the older boy to sleep. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't. He had made a promise to himself: do not sleep until Kenny wakes up. And he is not about to break it.

* * *

None of this mattered to Kenny. Without noticing, his presence in the real world had begun to slowly fade away.

When he opened his eyes once again, he was no longer in the white room with his brother by his side. Now what stood in front of him were the blood red gates of Hell.

"What are you doing here?" One of the minions inquired, thrusting up a sharp spear at the direction of the boy.

"I came here because I wanted to have tea with the dead just like Alice in Wonderland." Said Kenny in bitter sarcasm. "I died."

"What? You're a kid. Why would a kid go down here instead of Heaven?" The little demon scratched his head. "Ah, whatever. Open the gates!"

At his demand, the gates slowly creaked open, and the demon pointed inside. "In you go now, I don't have all day. You wait in line over there until it's your turn to get tortured, understand?"

The blonde merely nodded and walked in against his will. Hell was no different from his own house, according to the boy. He went to the end of the long time, and another demon gave him a number.

"You will go up there when they call out your number. Yours is 0302, they are on 0196 right, for your information." After explaining, the creature went off to another section of Hell.

"Hey kid, you want some of this shit?" An old man held up a bottle of whiskey. "It's good."

"No thank you." Kenny declined, pulling up his orange hood to hide his face.

"Dude, how did you end up here?" Asked one of the people. "How could a kid do something so bad that he had to go to Hell? Like dude, I envy you. I wish I can be as bad-ass as you!"

The blonde shrugged and focused on his number instead. 0302. _Huh. It's my birthday. March 2__nd__. But it doesn't matter, does it? I already lost track of what day it was…and plus, I have no excuse of living anyways. _

"Excuse me, but there is a misunderstanding here." A voice said from the front of the torture chamber.

The little demon workers gasped, and motioned the people to kneel down.

"Why are we doing this?" Kenny asked a random person to his right.

"Don't you know?" The demon that gave him his number hissed. "That's our Prince of Darkness over there!"

"That's Satan?" The boy peered over, seeing a dark haired boy dressed black from head to toe. An antichrist, he observed from the necklace that the 'Prince of Darkness' is wearing.

"Don't you know anything?" The creature slapped his forehead. "Lord Satan had become the King of Darkness; therefore, it makes his son Prince."

"What is it, Prince Damien?" The head chief of the torture process asked.

"Satan said that one of these people do not belong here, and told me to bring him or her here. It's..." He glanced at the piece of paper that had the name scribbled on it. "Kenneth. Is there anyone here named Kenneth?"

"It's me, it's me!" Another boy yelled, waving furiously. "My name is Kenneth!"

"No. Your name is Trent Boyette. You have been to Juvenile five times and five times you have gotten out." Damien said coldly. "And your punishment for lying…" He looked at the chief. "He is next for the torturing process."

The chief nodded silently.

"Now, who really is Kenneth?" The son of Satan asked.

Kenny stood up. "My real name is Kenneth McCormick, but everyone just calls me 'Kenny'." He paused, realizing that he might have made the wrong choice and wound up second in line.

"Very well, Kenny. Follow me then." The other boy turned around. "Everyone, please go back to work."

The blonde followed Damien out of the torture chamber, and in the back of his mind, he could hear the haunting screams of Trent Boyette being lowered into a pot of steaming water.

* * *

**A/N**

Amy: Thank you all for reading, and please review. It will make me update faster. :)


	2. Don't Cry Over Spilled Milk

**A/N**

Amy: Sorry for the long wait. My family and I went on vacation, and I just came back this morning. Enjoy reading, and please review!

* * *

It had been a few month since Kenny's encounter with Hell, and everything seemed normal again, except for the fact that he kept on dying now and then, and the bloody problem at home.

His mother had gotten very angry other the fact that death was a very common act for her son, and even more outraged that he was revived after a few days. She learned that no matter how hard she tries, she could never kill Kenny for real. However, that didn't stop her from abusing the boy; the pain only increased, often leaving him in a half-dead state where he couldn't see or hear anything with the exception of church bells, more likely in his head than from down the street.

Every night, after beating her child to a bloody plop, the woman would suddenly rush back and sob her heart out, telling Kenny how she didn't mean to do it, how she couldn't help but to do something that cruel and violent.

The blonde didn't understand. He couldn't figure out why his mother would attempt to kill him, make it look like suicide, and then apologize for her rash behaviors. So to avoid confusion, Kenny forgave his mother every single time, though bound to regret it later.

"Kenny? Snap out of it will ya?"

The boy blinked, seeing a pair of brown eyes staring back at him. "What?"

"You've been day dreaming for at least five minutes now, Kenny. You should eat your waffles now before…" Kevin trailed off.

"…Before they get cold? They're already frozen." The blonde murmured, poking the side of the food with his bent fork.

"Just eat it before Mom comes, Ken. She'll start bitching if you don't." The older brother whispered. "You're going to a new school today, so you don't want to go there with scars all over your arms and legs, right?"

Kenny merely nodded and forced himself to chew the ice covered pieces of waffles. The food was tasteless and cold in his mouth, but he swallowed them anyways and started cutting another piece. The blonde coughed a few times and looked for some liquid to wash it down. His somber gaze landed on his plate, the glass of milk by his side, then back at the plate again.

"Drink your god damned milk already! Your brother worked hard for it!" His mother commanded as she stomped down the stairs. It seemed that she has gotten up from the wrong side of the bed, but then again, she was always like that.

"But…I really don't like the taste of it." He objected quietly, looking away from the harsh glare of the woman that scorched his face.

Anger immediately swept on Mrs. McCormick's face, and she stormed to the counter, grabbing a butter knife. "You drink it, or you don't. It's your choice, Kenneth." She snarled, pointing the blade at the blonde.

Kenny looked at the woman with his dull eyes, and said nothing.

"Don't give me that look!" She snapped.

"It's okay Mom. It's no big deal." Kevin said, slowly moving towards the mad woman. "Kenny said before that he wanted to save it for you, since we don't have any more money to buy stuff like that."

The mother's eyes softened as she looked at her other son. "Oh Kevin, it's so sweet of you to say that, but we both know it's not true. Now move over honey, I need to teach that brat a lesson."

"Mom, I don't think it's really necessary to-"

"Move over _now_ Kevin!" The tone was firm and hard, allowing no excuses to break its barrier. Sighing, the older boy walked back to his little brother and stood in front of him.

"Mom, Kenny's just a kid. Why are you doing this to him?"

"Because Kevin dear, he's _my_ kid, therefore, I must teach him manners. Step aside now Kevin, I must finish my business." The sickening sweet tone was back again. "You won't understand why until you are a little older, sweetie."

The front door opened, and in came Mr. McCormick. "What's going on?" He demanded, whipping up a cigarette and lighting it with a lighter that was shaped like a naked woman. "Carol? What's up with that knife?"

"We've worked so hard for the money to buy the milk, but that little parasite would not drink it!" The redhead pointed an accusing finger at her youngest son. "Stewart, he really needs to learn to appreciate our hard-earned food!"

Steward took a long drag and fixed his eyes on the blonde. "What do you have to say about this, Kenneth?"

"If she thinks the situation is like that, then she can think whatever she wants." Was the soft reply.

"You little bastard, _you_ are not the one who have to work overnight to make the money to support the family, so _you_ need to learn how to respect people, especially me!" The mother charged forward, but was held down by the older brother.

"From my point of view, all you did overnight was surfing on the internet and watching TV shows. How can that make any money?" The blonde questioned.

Kevin hissed, shooting a look at his brother, a warning to keep his mouth shut.

"Alright Carol, I think that's enough. Kenny, get your back pack and go to school." The dad instructed, blowing out some smoke from his mouth. "Kevin, you too."

Kenny turned to leave, but Mrs. McCormick hurled the glass of milk at his head, where it cracked and splashed all over his clothe. "Look what you have done, Mrs. McCormick." He said calmly. "Now no one can drink it." He slapped on another shirt and pants in his room and left the house, his mother's screams and harsh words going through one ear and out the other.

* * *

"Hey dude, you want to try some of this shit?" One of the seniors from the high school rasped, holding out a box of cigars at Kenny when he passed by. The blonde only looked his way and continued walking. He knew better than trying to talk to a bunch of lunatics and drop outs, even though he has a messed up life and sometimes considered being one.

"Hey blondie, you new here? You're cute, wanna go out with me?" A girl this time, long frizzy blonde hair, a total slut, by the way she dressed. Kenny didn't even spare her a glance as he did to the drop outs. The girl scowled then went back to her friends.

"Hey, are you new?"

"Wow! It had been years since our school had a transfer student, can I show you around the school?"

"Welcome to South Park High! I can be your new friend if you want!"

"Hey, you look cool. Can I do your laundry sometimes?"

"Oo! You can be my new best friend!"

It took a good five minutes to make his way down the hall due to all the interruptions and the attention since he was the new student.

He hated it. He despised how everyone acted so friendly when the world was so miserable, at least in his eyes.

The blonde fished out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and looked at the first thing on his schedule: Math with Mr. Garrison, Room 402. The 'Mr.' part was crossed out and smeared in black ink, with the word 'Mrs.' scribbled on the top instead. He stuffed it back in his pocket, and then scanned through the school map drawn by the principle, trying to figure out which building was which.

Apparently, the principle was not exactly on the artistic side. After three minutes of studying the drawing, Kenny could only label the building on the right side 'dog crap', and the one in the center 'half bitten chicken nugget with a smiley face right in the middle'. The rest…he didn't even know what it was.

"Um, hello." A voice said besides him.

He turned his face away from the badly drawn map, seeing another blonde boy with a thick textbook in his hand. He twitched. The stranger's hair was very…interesting. There was only a clump of hair right in the middle, and the rest was bald. "…Hi?"

"Uh, my name is Butters, I heard you're the new student, so uh, I wanted to see if I can help ya out." Butters twiddled his fingers.

"Do you know where room 402 is?"

"Oh, ya have that class first? I, uh, I have that class too. You can go with me if you want." The three quarters bald kid said, heading towards the direction of their first class. "So, uh, what's your name?"

"Kenny McCormick?" He replied.

"Ah, okay. My name is Butters."

"You already told me that."

"Oh, uh, sorry. What's the name of your parents?" The shorter boy asked.

Kenny narrowed his eyes, not wanting this conversation to go on any longer. "Parent one and parent two." He answered flatly. "Why are you asking?"

"Uh, no reason." Butters said. "I just wanted to know. There's Mrs. Garrison's room, come on, I don't want to be late."

* * *

Mrs. Garrison was a ho. That was the first thing that came in Kenny's mind when he entered the room that was filled by retards, most of them, anyways.

"Settle down class." The teacher said, motioning the boy to walk to his desk. "This is Kennedy, he is goi-"

"It's Kenny." The blonde interrupted.

"The paper says 'Kennedy'." Mrs. Garrison pointed on the list of students.

"I know my name."

"Well, I don't!" The woman wrinkled her nose. "Excuse me, class. _Kenny_ here is the new transfer student. Everybody, say hello to Kenny."

The class was silently, either staring at the new student or plotting to sell Mrs. Garrison to the black market.

"Okay, Kenny, you can sit by…Eric." The teacher pointed at a random seat, but withdrew her hand too fast for the boy to see which person she was pointing at.

"Who?"

"The fat kid over here." Replied a redhead in a green hat who was pointing at a brunette next to him.

"Ay! Don't call me fat you fucking Jew! I'm not fat, I'm bluff, Kyle!" Cartman yelled.

Kenny walked down the aisle of desks, sat down on his assigned seat, then leaned on his back of the chair, one arm propping up his chin.

"Hey new kid, wanna go to my party on Saturday?" The fat kid offered.

The blonde ignored him and kept on staring ahead.

"Well too bad! You don't get an invitation!" Cartman snickered. "Ha ha ha ha ha ha, he he he he he he! You _so_ fell for that one!"

"Dude Cartman, leave him alone." Kyle said, tapping his pen on the desk, bored.

"Ha! It's all because you're a god damned Jew Kyle! Jew's can't poke fun at people!"

The red haired boy rolled his eyes, tired of hearing the same old joke over and over again. "Don't mind fat-ass over here, Kenny, he's a fucking retard." He muttered to the blonde, glaring at the brunette.

"Yeah, I can see."

"So, is there anything interesting about yourself? We don't really do anything in math. All those nerds are way over at the front, and Mrs. Garrison only pays attention to them."

Kenny gave the question some thought. "I die every now and then and get revived in a few days, if that counts as something."

"Dude, you serious?" Kyle exclaimed. "You sure that you're not on crack or cough medicine?"  
"I'm sure." The other replied. "Don't know how it happens, it just does."

"Wow, that's awesome. It'd be so cool if you never die, I wish I could be like that.

"Haha, sure." _No you don't. You would hate it if you could never die. Don't you get it? People like me end up craving death. Not dying is very painful. Once your heart stops beating, you feel no more physical pain, but as for me…_

"Hey Kenny, are you listening?"

Kenny looked up. "Huh? Oh, yeah, keep going."

"It turns out that we have to do a project in Math all week. Want to be my partner?" Kyle asked with a smile.

"Psh, the only reason why he's asking you is because his precious Stan-faggot returned to his fucking Goth group again." Cartman crossed his arms. "Isn't that right, Jew?"  
The redhead's face immediately darkened. "Yeah right! Keep your words to yourself Cartman. Stan can do whatever he wants; I don't give a damn anymore. So shut your mouth before I do it for you."

"If you don't care, why are you being so defensive?" The fat boy pressed on.

"Cartman…" Kyle said warningly, his green eyes flashing in anger.

"Who's Stan?" Kenny asked.

The other two quieted down and turned to look at him; both didn't seem to find the right words to describe the person.

"He…used to be our friend. Us three grew up together." Cartman replied.

"Stan was my best friend before; something happened a few weeks ago, then suddenly he left us for the Goth kids, again." Kyle added. "So, let's go find a table where we can work on our projects." He said, eager to change the subject.

"Alright." Kenny replied. _Who really is Stan?_

* * *

**A/N**

Amy: Hey guys, thanks for reading. Please push that lovely purple button down there and spend one minute of your life making a fellow writer happy. I'll update faster if you review!


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